


Progressive

by MamaJude



Category: Tales of Xillia
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-02
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-20 22:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3667065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamaJude/pseuds/MamaJude
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of dark speculative drabbles, short stories, and poems. Updated as inspiration comes. All characters are fair game. May contain depression/suicidal themes, abuse, and graphic violence.<br/>If you have a prompt or a character request, feel free to PM me!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Unique (Jude)

Prompt: Jude visits Ivar's grave. Requested by Valiant-Overachiever on Tumblr.  
  
“Hey, Ivar. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” He wondered what kind of reaction the former handmaid might have had. He was nothing if not unpredictable, that was for certain, and though at first it had been overwhelming, Jude couldn’t deny that he’d come to like his quirks.  
  
Eccentric, sensitive, pushy, determined. Jude would have given anything to see him again. Maybe it was their mutual adoration for Milla which had originally brought them together on what he dared to say were good terms. Maybe it was the unspoken respect for each others’ resolve. Whether they’d liked it or not, they understood each other in a way no one else could, and…  
  
“It’s still hard to believe you’re not around.” Ivar would’ve hated him getting so sentimental like this over him, he thought with a chuckle as he pictured his self-declared rival getting up-in-arms over it. “I wish we could have spent more time as friends, you know.” They’d shared a unique bond, to say the least. Perhaps he could have changed things—but it was best, in the end, not to think too hard on that. He couldn’t blame himself; he couldn’t blame anyone for what had happened.  
He ran a hand over the smooth stone with a nostalgic smile. “I miss you.”


	2. Reflection (Victor)

The way the light reflected on the waters of the lake,  _oh_  how it reminded him of those days. Those days when those people found that light within  _him_ , those days when somehow they managed to bring out his best when now…

The way the light reflected on the waters of the lake, oh how he  _loathed_  it. He stared out longingly over the gold-painted pool that seemed to stretch on forever, stared out for god knows how long as he racked his brain for answers.

Why had they tried to stop him? Why couldn’t they understand? Of all times,  _why,_ why  _then?_  Oh! Of all times, indeed. But, did he not deserve this  _one_  happiness? This one true joy? For all he’d been through, he surely had earned a quiet life with a family all his own at  _least_  ten times over.

And as he deserved that joy,  _they_  had all but decided their own fates. Yes, that was it. He fixed the mask which adorned his war-torn face with a scowl as the bittersweet blend of emotion he’d done his best to forget washed over him.  _His brother, his friends._ And maybe so it was a cruel twist of dramatic irony, then, that the two remaining lights in his life had so soon been taken from him, too. He would have her back someday. He was confident, confident in her, confident in himself.

‘ _There may be no happiness left for me in this world,_ ' he thought, ' _but surely somewhere…_ ’

That night came and went, just as so many countless nights had come and gone before it. Countless, sleepless, endless. Somewhere. Someday.

He would hold on to that hope, for as long as he did he could hold on to that will to live, to  _her._ Who else could he trust? If not  _them_ , if not  _himself_ , he would put his faith in her. The man traced a finger along the edge of his mask, sliding it from his face.

The way the light reflected on the waters of the lake… oh, how he longed for those peaceful days.


	3. Dreaming (Jude)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Jude has a dream about Ludger. Prompted by TalesofDebt on Tumblr.

Blood. There was so much  _blood._ Why…? Jude looked around weakly, dizzy from the sight and the overwhelming,  _burning_ scent. 

“ _Ludger?”_  Was his voice even working? It was hard to tell–his thoughts were so loud it would have been easy to mix them up for spoken words, despite how fast they seemed to race through his mind. “ _C-come on… we just… we just want to help you–!”  
_ Ludger had his head turned toward him, but he couldn’t’ make out his face. It was like… he didn’t even have a face; it was obscured entirely by some thick veil of shadows now.  _Why?_  He saw movement and he was aware that he was being spoken to, although not a single word registered in his ears.

An unshakable sense of dread taunted his unresponsive body.  He wanted to run–he  _had_ to run! He was going to die.  _He was going to die–_!

Jude woke with a start, his heart and head pounding as flashes of the now-vague images slowly faded away with each blink of his eyelids. It was just a dream, he realized, repeating it himself over and over until he’d calmed down.  
 _Just a dream._


End file.
